


Two of Us.

by allonsysilvertongue



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Multi, endgame spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-04 15:41:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18607519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allonsysilvertongue/pseuds/allonsysilvertongue
Summary: Peter and Morgan at the funeral.





	Two of Us.

**Author's Note:**

> So.. Endgame ended me. I haven’t written anything for months but this happened. Had to deal with the emotions somehow. This is a spoilery fic so please don’t read if you haven’t seen the movie.

 

** Two of Us. **

Five years was long time to be away.

The world as he knew it was different and yet, the same.

The ones who were gone, the ones like him, had tried to pick up where they left off. With half of the population doing that, it gave the illusion as if everything was the same.

But things  _had_  changed.

Morgan Stark holding on to his hand was one such testament to that. Truth be told, he didn’t really know what to do or how to act with the girl. Peter’s exposure to children was limited to the ones who stopped him on the street as Spiderman to say hello and take a selfie. He never actually had to babysit a child before but Ms Potts –  _Mrs Stark_ , he reminded himself – was getting the wreath ready, claiming there was something else she needed to make it complete. Happy was running point and ensuring that things were in order while Rhodey…. He looked around, searching for the man. Rhodey was outside at the porch talking to Steve Rogers.

So here he was with little Morgan Stark who looked so much like her dad that Peter was having trouble trying to remain compose.

He doubted she truly understood what was going on around her but she was well behaved, waiting there quietly and patiently with him, a boy she barely knew. His gaze trailed down to her and his heart ached. She was so small and innocent, and so fragile.

Peter knew what it was like to lose a parent at such a young age and to grow up without a father’s guidance. She was a child with only five years’ worth of memories of her dad.

 _Or perhaps lesser,_  Peter mused. He had read somewhere that the earliest memory one can access was at the age of two.

He wanted to say something, anything at all to comfort her but he grappled to find the right words. In the end, he sighed loudly.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice soft.

Peter looked down, forced himself to smile a little.

“Uh, nothing. You need anything, little one?”

“No,” Morgan shook her head and Peter thought she was the cutest little girl he had ever seen. “Are you here to see daddy, too? I miss daddy.”

“Me too, Morgan,” Peter answered without missing a beat.  _Not daddy but Mr. Stark,_  he wanted to say when she raised her head at him a little confused, but he settled for, “I miss him, too.”

Everything was odd. He still felt as if he wasn’t back in his own skin, as if a part of him was stuck in … wherever he was when Thanos snapped his fingers. He was having trouble trying to reconcile that years had passed here and that during that time, people had grieved and tried to move on.

To him, it felt as if he had  _just_  met Mr. Stark not too long ago; as if the dressed down he received from his mentor after the ferry incident was just recently; as if it was just yesterday that he was in space with both Dr. Strange and Mr. Stark.

It was confusing and sometimes, his head hurt. May tried to be gentle with him; assured him that with time, he would feel better.

He was afraid he would never. How was he supposed to when Mr. Stark is gone so soon after Peter returned? They were supposed to have more time.

“Petey,” Morgan tugged on his sleeve and brought her voice down to a whisper. “There are so many people.”

At the sound of her voice, so tiny and helpless, Peter knelt down in front of her. He laid a gentle arm on her shoulder and brushed her hair back, the way May had done for him countless of times to soothe him.

“It’s okay. They’re friends of your dad. They’re here for him, too.”

Her eyes were bright and shiny, watering. It made Peter looked around, anxious.

_Please don’t cry, Morgan, please don’t cry._

As it was, Peter was already barely holding himself together. Being at Tony Stark’s funeral was the last place he wanted to be. He should be with Mr. Stark in his lab, working on an upgrade for each of their suits. Mr. Stark should have been showing off the Rescue suit to Peter, so he could properly be in awe of his mentor, as if he wasn’t already.

“I’ve never seen them before,” she admitted, biting on her bottom lip. “Are they like you?”

It made Peter pause, wondering just how much Morgan knew of what transpired.

“Well… Yeah, we were all gone for a little bit, you know? But – But we’re all back now. And we’re here ‘cause of Mr. Stark – your dad. So that’s why – that’s why we’re here to pay …. We owe him and we all want to say goodbye.”

“But I’ve never seen them before,” she frowned.

“They’re friends. I know you’re feeling a little scared having all these strangers in your house but hey, look at me. You’ve never seen me before either, but you and I… We’re okay right?” he tried his best to comfort her.

Her frown deepened.

“Daddy said you’re a spider. He told me so,” Morgan jutted her chin out stubbornly as if Peter might at any moment questioned her.

He blinked.  _She knows me._

“He said you’re an aven… avenger,” she struggled a little with the word.

“He – He made me an avenger… on a space ship,” Peter explained. “He told you about me?”

“Mhm,” Morgan’s face split into a smile as she nodded. “It’s my favourite bed time story. I don’t like his other stories. Yours is my favourite.”

He reeled back, choking. Peter made a sound somewhere between a laugh and cry, trying to control his sudden burst of emotions.

Tony Stark told bedtime stories about  _him_  to his daughter. Morgan knew about Spiderman because of her dad.

“Mommy said you’re like me,” she continued, oblivious to the barrage of emotion she had just unleashed. “Daddy’s kids. But…” she trailed. “Mommy said he lost you so that’s why I shouldn’t play too far from the house or daddy will lose me too and it will make him sad. Like you made him sad.”

“I  -  I made him sad?”

“Yup,” she nodded. “Sometimes, in the kitchen, daddy will look at your picture and it makes him sad.”

That explained it, Peter thought.

It explained the reason why, apart from Rhodey and Happy, Morgan seemed familiar with him. It was the reason why she was here calmly holding his hand and talking to him. She already knew him.

She grew up hearing stories about him; stories that Tony Stark told her to keep Peter alive in his memories.

Peter sat down, realising that now their position was reversed.  _He_  would be the one telling Morgan stories about her own dad. And that was all she would have of him – stories to last her a lifetime.

 


End file.
